No more faith, p.1
No More Faith, page 1
No More Faith
A Town Without Pity Series
Sandy Appleyard
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ISBN 978-1-990807-08-4
ISBN 978-1-990807-09-1
Copyright © 2022 Sandy Appleyard
All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
No More Grace
Other Books in This Series
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Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Kiley
“Oh my God, Rachel, you won’t believe what I just found!” I squeal into the phone.
“What did you find?” she asks, her voice somewhat tentative.
“I was putting Ian’s laundry away, and I found a little black velvet box in his underwear drawer!”
“Oh, wow! Did you open it?’ she squeaks, and I’m not sure who is more excited.
“No! Should I? God, I don’t want to ruin the surprise!”
“Well, you should, I think. And I think you should do it in five minutes…when I’m there.” She says, matter-of-factly, like it’s an order.
“But…”
“But nothing. Ian’s gone until tomorrow. He’ll never catch you, right?”
“Sure, but…I’m not even sure if I want to open it.” I can hear her keys rattle, and I’m not sure if she’s locking her front door or getting ready to start her car.
“Sure you do.” Her car starts, and the phone pauses for a moment, while I’m put on Bluetooth. After a beat, she continues. “What happens if the ring sucks? And you have to psych yourself up to react appropriately?”
“Ian does have shitty taste, I’ll admit.”
“So, then…” she trails off.
“Well, then, hurry up and get here.” I chuckle impatiently. “This box is calling to me.”
“I can see your freaking house from here, just relax.”
Rachel and I bought our houses six blocks apart. We considered buying on the same street, but figured that was too close, and decided against it. Plus, her house is much more extravagant than mine, seeing as I’m in medical school, and she’s already graduated from university, and making truck loads of money as a consultant for an IT firm. Her income rivals mine by a landslide, but with me coming from a wealthy family, I could have had a house twice the size of hers, but chose not to.
Ian, my boyfriend of eighteen months, moved in with me about six months ago. We met at a bar one night, when some classmates of mine and I got together, after finishing exams. I’m attending university to become an orthopedic surgeon, and currently studying to write my exam to get my physiotherapist’s licence. I’ve been interning with Doctor Dawson Miller, a fantastic orthopedic surgeon, at his clinic inside one of the hospitals here in Dallas.
Ian is away with friends on a fishing trip this weekend. Something he doesn’t do often, so it was nice to have a little time away. Don’t get me wrong, living with Ian is great, but we all need a little space sometimes, I suppose. Sure, we had a little fight before he left, which prompted his departure, but all the same, we love each other, and surprisingly, we haven’t even spoken about marriage yet, so finding this box is unexpected.
Rachel’s car pulls up as I’m standing inside the doorway, and we scurry into the house, like she just bought some secret toy or something, and nobody can see it, but we’re dying to play with it. Why, I don’t know, but I lock my door when she comes in. As if Ian’s going to come home early, plus, he has a key…duh.
“So, did you lose your patience and open it, or what?” Rachel asks as we walk upstairs to my bedroom.
“No, of course not!” I scoff, feigning insult.
“I would have.”
“Well, that’s you. Me, I could easily just put the box back in the drawer, and pretend that it doesn’t exist.”
“What I don’t understand is why he would leave it in the drawer.” Rachel comments. “I mean, this is your house. Why wouldn’t you snoop?”
“I resent that.”
“Whatever. I’d snoop.”
“That’s you. And that’s probably also why you don’t have a boyfriend right now.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend because I choose not to have one.” She says with her nose in the air as we get to my room. My house is modest but sweet. Big but not so big that I have to hire someone to clean it. With four bedrooms, a double car garage, pool, modern fixtures, hardwood throughout, and a full basement, this house is nothing to cry over, yet it pales in comparison to the one I grew up in. My folks own a restaurant chain, and they started it from scratch, alone, when my paternal grandparents died in a car accident and left my father, their only child, with a tidy sum of inheritance.
Mama and daddy were expecting me, and they already had a house given to them as a wedding present, and their wedding was paid for by the family, so the only thing left was to start a business, and both mama and daddy always dreamed of doing that. Both of them are fabulous at cooking. Mama even won some awards when she went to culinary school. Daddy is no slouch, either, and he’s got the business degree to back it all up.
How I came to want to become an orthopedic surgeon is from Rachel. She and I grew up together, and her younger sister, bless her heart, was born with a multitude of musculoskeletal issues, both painful and debilitating, and there was little that doctors could do for her. Watching poor Bethany suffer tore my heart out, and it was when she succumbed to her disability that I decided to be a surgeon. It’s a long road but it’s so worth it, and I have quite a nose for the human body, too. Dawson tells me this all the time, and that’s why he hired me.
His sister, Kerry-Ann, is a physiotherapist, and we went to school together, too, so that’s how I came to know Dawson. He never lets his patients call him Dr. Miller, always Dawson. He’s great like that. He just came back from a trip to Russia to oversee a breakthrough procedure that I can’t wait to chew the fat with him about, but everything has been kind of hush hush since he returned early. Not sure what happened there, and I’ve been studying my hind end off for this exam, so I’ve only been working part time at the clinic for the past couple of weeks.
“Well, where is it?” Rachel demands, eyes dancing.
“It’s…in his underwear drawer…just like I said.” I snuffle, opening the drawer. “God, you’re impatient.”
“When my best friend stumbles upon the Holy Grail of any relationship, sure, I’m impatient. This is going to take some serious thinking.”
“Why?” I ask, pulling the box out.
“Because…like I said before…what if it sucks?”
“Well, isn’t there some kind of discretionary policy when a man proposes to a woman, and she doesn’t like the ring? Isn’t she allowed to have an opinion? And besides, don’t most couples go out and choose the ring together nowadays?”
She shrugs. “Hell if I know.” She gestures with her chin. “Let’s see it.”
Reluctantly, wincing, I open the box. But at the last second, I close my eyes, losing my nerve. “Is it good?” I ask, eyes still closed.
She sighs. “It’s good. But it’s not a ring.”
I open my eyes. “What?”
It’s a pair of diamond earrings.
“Well, that would have been another thought.” Rachel says, and I detect disappointment in her voice.
“My birthday is next week, Rach. This is no shock.” I reason.
“Then he has great taste and is very thoughtful. These are at least a quarter carat and from a reputable place, too.”
“They’re beautiful.” I gush, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at them. “But I don’t understand where he got the money for these. He just bought a car.”
“No, you just bought him a car.” She corrects, with a hint of resentment in her voice.
“So? He needed one.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t need a brand new Mercedes, when you drive a goddamn Honda.”
“It’s what I wanted and what he wanted.” I shrug.
“Yeah.” She smirks with a scoff, handing me the box back. “I’m sure your folks are pleased as punch that you bought him that car.”
“It’s not their money, Rachel, and you know it.”
My folks gave me what my grandparents would have wanted me to have, when I bought this house, and let’s just say that I will live comfortably, until I have my own income, that is. I bought Ian the car because that was what he wanted. He didn’t even express his interest to me directly, I just saw him perusing favorably through Mercedes ads, and when he went to check one out at a dealership, I went with him. Bought it on the spot. Me? I love my Honda. It's cherry red and it has all the bells and whistles. I don’t like Mercedes, personally, but my Honda is sweet.
“Whatever, Rachel. At least he bought me a nice birthday present. It’s not an engagement ring, but to be fair, you know that we haven’t even discussed marriage yet.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” She says, rubbing my arm. “You’re right. I hate it when a guy starts talking about marriage so soon, like he’s just doing it to save face. I’d rather take it step by step, the way that you and Ian are doing it.”
“Right. Move in together first. Then talk about marriage.”
“Exactly.”
“Or a shut-up ring. I hate it when guys do that.”
“Like what happened to you?” I point out with a playful smirk. Rachel knows that I’m just teasing her. Her last boyfriend did just that. He bought her a ring, and it stayed on her finger, with no concrete wedding plans for a year. Then he broke up with her out of the blue. She’s still smarting over that, which happened almost a year ago.
“Yeah, exactly.” She smiles. “But at least I didn’t think he was going to give me a ring and then it turned out to be diamond earrings.” She volleys back playfully.
“I guess we’re even.”
“We’re so not even.” She guffaws, chuckling. “I was engaged for a year. You’re just living with him. Big difference.”
“It’s just a ring, Rach. Living together is more important.”
“True. But still. I don’t think he ever had any intention of marrying me. I don’t even know why he proposed.”
“To shut you up.”
“And that’s the confusing part. I never brought it up.”
“Same here. I’ve got my education to think about first before tying the knot.”
“Same here, Kiley. I was just starting out, too.”
“Okay, so, I put the ring back and forget about it, right?”
She dips her chin to confirm. “Yes. Forget about it. And when he gives it to you next week, you act like you never once ripped through his tidy whities and found it.”
“For the record, I wasn’t snooping around. I just…saw something in there.”
“Sure, right under the pile of his shorts.”
“Well, yeah, under his shorts.”
“And what were you doing washing his clothes, anyway? Since when do you do that?”
I shrug. “I wanted to do something nice. I felt guilty for the way we left things.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We had a fight. That’s actually why he left for the weekend. I just didn’t want to admit it last night.”
“What was the fight about.” She asks, unimpressed. Ian and I fight all the time. Especially since he moved in. I feel like every week there’s something else I’m telling Rachel that we fought about.
“He made plans with me and ditched me again.” I shrug. “Sometimes I think us living together is just a convenience thing to him.”
“Tell me about it. It was the same with me and Wayne.”
“Exactly. I swear those two guys were cut from the same cloth.”
“Only difference is Wayne bought me an engagement ring.”
“And let it grow dust.”
“Yeah.” She scoffs. “Alright. Enough of this. Let’s go do something fun. What do you think?” she asks, as I tuck the box back exactly where I found it.
“I’m not feeling very motivated. You want to watch a trashy movie and eat trash?”
“Fill our bodies and minds with toxic waste? Sounds like hog heaven to me.”
***
“God, you look great.” Ian says, approaching me, in the new dress my mama bought me for my birthday, and the shoes my daddy bought me. Okay, fine, I picked them out, but they paid for them.
“Thanks. Twenty bucks says my birthday cake ends up all over this dress before the night’s out.”
He chuckles, pulling me close. “Tell you what. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“What, do you have some kind of magic invisible bib tucked under my chin?” I gush, kissing him.
He snuffles a laugh, kissing me back. “No, but I’ll be ready with a napkin nearby.”
“Hey, you two, keep it PG, hm?” Daddy says, sneaking up behind us, carrying a metal drink tray, full of empty drinking goblets. This party was supposed to be just a few of my friends and family, but it seems that daddy invited just about every colleague and business associate that he and my mama know. Thankfully, my folks have an ample sized house, so we are able to hold large gatherings with ease. Their formal dining room is big enough to hold more than fifty people without breaking fire codes.
Daddy sets the tray on the counter, while mama motions to one of the servants, to come and do refills. The party is catered, but mama always hires some students from the local college, to help out. Same as at the restaurants. Mama and daddy always help the culinary programs at all the colleges for restaurant events, filling in for staff, and for entertaining at home. They give generously to the establishments, too, and never forget to give back. That’s one of the things I love most about my folks.
“Daddy,” I warn, knowing that Ian and I are respectful in public, and daddy knows it, too. We’ve only so much as pecked on the lips when anyone is present. Although Ian wasn’t raised in a rich family like I was, he’s versed in manners and proper etiquette, and that’s what my folks love about him. That, and he’s the reason for the smile on my face, most of the time. Plus, Ian never makes me choose between my studies and him. He gives me space when I need it, and never questions.
“Charles, leave them alone.” Mama chides, giving the servant a warm smile, helping her retrieve the correct scotch and brandy for daddy’s older friends. I didn’t realize how snooty this party had become until daddy brought out the scotch and brandy.
“Hey, do we have any beer?” Rachel asks, murmuring behind me.
“Sure. It’s in the bar fridge in the other room. I’ll go grab you one.” I say, releasing Ian.
“I’ll come with you.” Rachel says, and I watch Ian pull his phone out of his pocket, answering a text message.
“So, when are you opening your presents?” Rachel asks, rubbing her palms together in anticipation.
“I don’t know. Probably after the cake, I guess.” I shrug. “What are you so excited for? It’s just a pair of earrings, Rach. It’s not the Hope Diamond.”
“He’s never bought you anything so extravagant before, Kiley. I’m surprised that you’re not more excited. Although, after believing it was an engagement ring at first, I can kind of see how you’d be a little bit deflated.”
“The earrings are nice, Rach. I’m not a materialistic person. You know that. I just…I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. Who knows what kind of debt Ian got himself into buying those.”
“True. But he’s making good money now, isn’t he? I mean, he’s not a fool. He wouldn’t dig himself into debt for that, would he?”
“He’s making decent money, yes.” We don’t really talk about it much, but he’s been a college professor for more than five years. He’s an English teacher for a local college, and although he isn’t breaking the bank with his salary, it’s nothing to cry over. “And, no, I don’t think that he’d go into debt for something like this. I mean, he was reluctant to buy a new car, which is why I bought it for him.”
“You don’t think the earrings are a guilt present, do you? I mean, he didn’t just buy them because you bought him a nice car, right?”
I wave. “No. Ian and I aren’t like that. Like I said, we don’t talk about finances much. Our bills get paid as needed. He pays for what he can and I cover the rest. That was something we agreed on before he agreed to move in.”
“What, that he wouldn’t have to cover his half?” Rachel teases, and I know it. Why it doesn’t bother me, I don’t know, but she’s always making jokes about how Ian all but gets a free ride from me, even though I know that isn’t the case.
“Shut up.” I whine, chuckling, opening up the bar fridge and handing her a beer. “Before I make you wear this.”
“Kiley? Kiley, honey. Do you want to open your presents now?” Mama calls.
“Sure, mama. I’ll be right there.”
Rachel gives me a playful smirk. “Ready to fake surprise?”
“Shut up.” I murmur, elbowing her, eyes dancing.
Mama has a chair set up in the living room, with balloons hanging on streamers from the back of it, and a big banner on top. Being a restaurant owner, mama has a flair for going all out at events, and it’s also why their restaurants are very popular event venues. They don’t miss a beat. The decorated box next to me is piled with gifts, most of which are cards, with money in them. Despite them buying me the outfit I’m wearing, mama and daddy also gave me a large check, for an insane amount of money, which brings me to tears.
